I sat on my bed, sighing heavily as I stare up at the ceiling. I had just texted Mike good morning, and was waiting for his response. I thought back to the night I had even as sunlight filters through black-out curtains. It was kind of the playout of a nightmare, or horror movie, wasn't it? Had I been some blond white chick I'd probably have died already, and I certainly wouldn't have lasted too long if I treated it like a horror movie. I suppose my blase attitude, contrasting with my anticipatory terror, probably saved my life more than once.

"Not scared, fucking liar. How did he know I wasn't scared? I mean, I'm glad he thought so-"

"Stop talking to yourself!" My brother yelled, interrupting me, and I hesitated.

I glanced at my dark wooden door, before my gaze returned to my dark ceiling that would be white had the room not been as close to pitch black as it could be without taping the windows black. The black out curtains made the room look like it was constantly dusk during the day, which I didn't really mind.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" I called back. My hand idly rose, reaching for something, stretching out as if it were just out of reach instead of me reaching for something nonexistent. Oddly enough, it felt like I’d done so before. That someone had grabbed my hand, last time I did so. It was odd, and I frowned at my hand.

"I'm skipping! They said the KKK was coming in! So shut up and let me sleep!" He answered. My hand froze, before flopping down. Well that fucking sucked, hopefully all the other kids got the message and made themselves scarce. I had the awful feeling that I'd be cleaning up bodies night six, though. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping I wouldn't have to comfort William come tomorrow.

"Oh. Well shut the fuck up I can talk to myself if I want to! I'm going through some shit!"

"You're a janitor, dumbass, the only shit you go through is in toilets or on walls!"

"Fuck off! Who's paying for your wifi?" At the silence, I nodded, "Thought so, bitch."

I didn't continue my train of thought, though, just closing my eyes and turning around. Arm wrapping around something, I sigh and open my eyes, only to scramble up and off the mattress when I see what my arm wrapped around. I observed the man from where I was pressed against the opposite wall, not looking at his face even though I could see his entire body. He had light hair, though whether it was blond, brown, or orange I'd have to actually look at it to see, since the entire room was shrouded in darkness. I take deep breaths, and try pulling up the calm facade I was so great at using. Forcing myself to relax, I awkwardly stretch forward, grabbing my phone and calling phone guy.

"Hello? Hello, hello! Uh, usually you don't call this early! I'm-" He was interrupted by the sound of screaming and crashing, "- a bit busy. The white supremacy group decided to pay Juvenile Asylum a visit, and some kids- ooh," the sound of choked gurgling made me grimace, "Didn't quite get the memo. On the bright side, there's only three members of the group left!"

"Er, as... messy... As that sounds, I was wondering about the ghosts, actually. Uh, what-" I stuttered at the sound of a chainsaw and maniacal laughter, "-what- uh, follow home?" I couldn't quite form words at the horrific image my mind was painting.

"Oh! Yes, sometimes ghosts follow you home! That's actually suggestion six! Night six- or, day, heh, if a ghost follows you home, just ignore it and it will eventually leave you alone! Uh- I- I have to go... I'll take care of the bodies, but would you clean the blood and fabric scraps tonight? I doubt we'll be able to clean it all in time..." Phone guy didn't wait for a response, just hanging up.

I'm silent, just staring at my phone for a long time. The silence rings in my head, and my body feels cold in a way that was more psychological than physical. I recognized a few of the voices as my brother's friends, and hoped that they survived even as a burning pit made way in my stomach. Standing up after swallowing ten too many times, I calmly- in shock, more than actually calm- walk to the bathroom, and barely close the door in time. Holding my own hair back and keeping from touching the toilet seat, I release the small meal I had for dinner- a simple plate of microwaved chicken nuggets. After dry heaving for a few more moments as silently as I could, I coughed and stood up, flushing the toilet and grabbing the mouthwash.

Seven minutes later I came out of the bathroom, mouth minty fresh even as the back of my throat burned with remnants of stomach acid. Moving to my room and opening the mini-fridge, I ignore the ghost's snide jab at why one person needed that much of two sodas, and down the Dr. Pepper, ignoring the apple flavored monster that took up the bottom half of the mini fridge. Using the Dr. Pepper to push back if not get rid of the burning that made my eyes tear up I grimaced and left my room to toss the can in the recycling. I brush past him when he appears in my way, and continuously ignore him. When I flop on the bed, he appears just before I land, and my relieved sigh turned into a quiet grunt as I land on something warmer and bumpier than my mattress. Arms wrap around me, and I shift to the side tiredly, untangling myself and turning my back on the ghost as I fall asleep.

Later that night, I stare at the very un-taken care of bodies... Alongside all of the daytime janitors. There's a single, gasping man in red-coated white, leg pinned to the ground with what looked like a makeshift spear, made out of a broom handle. I stare dispassionately down at Mike's brutalized body, before sitting down with a heavy sigh. The man clad in white didn't bother begging when I leveled a gun his way and pulled the trigger before tossing the pistol away.

"Not going to clean up?" The annoying ghost asked from the doorway of the school, not having been there when I woke up in bed, thankfully.

"I'm not getting paid anymore," I explained, voice sounding odd to my own ears, like through a tunnel. All of the teachers were dead, most of the kids were dead, what was the point in cleaning up a place that would be shut down anyway? "It's not like payment was automatic."

My back met the blood-stained ground, and I gazed up at the sky for a moment. It started raining, and flashes of light made the cold rain seem all the colder. It wasn't that I was unused to having to move, with having to find yet another place that would accept my brother and I, no. It wasn't even that I was unused to seeing brutality, or bodies lining the ground. I didn't actually know what it was, that made my chest ache and my eyes burn with tears that scald in comparison to the chilling rain. I stared up at the sky, trying my best to keep my breathing steady even as I'm soaked through. I ignore the blood mixing with the rain soaking me through, not bothering to get up even as the rain continued pounding down, flooding the small parking lot in front of one of the last high schools I knew of that were still open. Or, rather, the last. The very last. I couldn't even give my younger brother the illusion of normality, anymore. This world, this life, was bullshit. Utter fucking bullshit.

Had I been younger, had I not had to take care of my brother until he was old enough to be accepted into a good group, I might’ve enjoyed the chaos. Taking care of my brother really changed my ideals about life in general, though.

I closed my eyes with a deep breath, and sat up, stumbling to my feet. Slowly opening my eyes, they land on Mike, the happy-go-lucky man that gave me a chance when no one else would, with my record. The only man who ever put up with my shit for longer than a day. Kneeling next to Mike, I pulled him into my arms, standing up unsteadily as I turn without so much as a glance back at the high school. I was just tired.

What was I supposed to do?

My life had been over the moment the anarchic apocalypse began, but my brother still had a chance to get through it and live in an actual society one day. Had, because the school was the last place both my brother and I would be welcomed, both being different races and genders making fitting in anywhere difficult. I'd either have to let my brother go to a gang that would turn him into a monster, or have him hide away until it was all over, which neither he nor I would allow. There was no more options. Not for either of us. There were safe groups, or there were gangs. No safe group let in teenage black males, and no gang had room for people refusing to kill, rape, and torture others.

"I can bring them back to life," The ghost offered, appearing in front of me, "The teachers and students. For a price, of course. I won't bring back the janitors, though. You'll get paid by the principal, who is still alive, hiding in his office, I believe."

My gaze raised, and I observed the darkened face of the ghost, only visible feature being glowing red eyes. They faded into darkness, and I thought the offer over even as Mike seemed to grow heavier in my arms. My first friend since this whole thing started, a few years ago. My brother needed to survive, that didn't mean I did.

"What's the price?"